


Cabin

by chaosgroupie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosgroupie/pseuds/chaosgroupie
Summary: This is based on a prompt by saltyhunter (aka destielprompts on Instagram)Dean gets lost during a hunting trip and he prays to Castiel for help. But when the angel appears, he’s inside a cabin in the woods and everything is set for a cozy romantic night…
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	Cabin

Dean pressed a hand to his stomach, grimacing at the pain. He and Sam had been out hunting a wendigo, it should have been an easy kill. But after running into a pair of stranded hikers who were injured, he had told his brother to take them back into town, keeping them away from the evil creature. So he had headed out on his own, deeper and deeper into the dark woods. Why it was that they always felt the need to go hunting these things at night, he would never understand. Granted, it did keep civilians away, but it made everything that much harder to accomplish.

He stumbled, falling to the ground. Dean’s stomach was killing him. The wendigo had slashed a long cut from his left pectoral down to his hip. He had managed to stifle the bleeding somewhat with his undershirt, ripping it into bandages and tying them tight. But still, he knelt on the ground, desperately aching to take a full breath.

This had all happened hours ago. He had thought to be back at Baby by now, but wandering around the woods in the dark, he had lost all sense of direction. Probably had something to do with feeling woozy and light-headed from blood loss.

After a while, he noticed some lights in the distance. Maybe, just maybe, if he could make it to them, he would find help. There had been a brief moment when he had thought to call Castiel, but they had argued earlier that morning. Same stupid shit they always argued about. Absolutely nothing. Sometimes that angel really ground his gears, making him see red. There were other times when they were alone, and he would look into those brilliant blue eyes, losing himself and his train of thought. But all those times served to do was make him angrier. The angel confused the hell out of him. One moment, all he wanted to do was punch him in the face. The next, he wanted to push him against the wall and…

Shaking his head, he stopped that train of thought. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be gay. God, the thoughts… his dad would have beat them out of him. Dean had never been happier to know his dad was dead then the first time he had thought of Castiel in that way. But the angel had never noticed, oblivious to anything that wasn’t even remotely platonic.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he came upon the light source. It was a small cabin in the middle of the woods, smoke billowing from the chimney. The door wasn’t shut completely, so Dean pressed it open with his foot, hoping like hell there wasn’t anyone home. A blood streak on the floor had him straightening, pain momentarily forgotten. He drew his gun from the holster, holding it up as he walked through the house.

Dean vaguely noticed the table set, a candle flickering, but his gaze was drawn to the blood streaks that led through the small building. They went over carpet, almost as if someone had dragged a body toward the back door. It stood wide open, and he approached it cautiously. When Dean saw the man and woman outside, lying on the ground, stomachs missing from where something had eaten their entrails, he sighed and lowered the gun. It must have been the wendigo, the claw marks on their bodies gave that much away.

After realizing there was nothing to kill, nor anyone to save, the pain came back. Gasping, he headed back into the cabin, shutting the back door against the chilly night air. He stumbled around until he found the bathroom, taking off his shirt, then unwrapping the makeshift bandages. They weren’t weeping blood any more, but they were vicious-looking, raw and red. Fuck, he would have to call Castiel, there was no way around it. Slipping his shirt back over his head, he went out into the main living area.

“Cas, I don’t know if you are listening… fuck, man, I’m sorry about earlier.” Dean hung his head, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I could use you right now. Please, Cas, I’m…”

The sound of wings fluttering stopped him before he could say anything else and he saw his angel, standing there looking at the table. When Dean finally looked at the table, he saw what Castiel did. Two tall candles flickered in the center of the table, a pot of something sat covered but it smelled delicious, and a vase held a single red rose.

Castiel didn’t even notice the bloodstains or the fact that Dean’s shirt was soaked in blood, just the presentation laid out before him. For so long, he had wondered if his hunter could feel the same. When he had gripped him tight, raising him from hell, a portion of his essence permanently entrenched in Dean’s soul. That wasn’t why he felt this ache for him, however. Dean was stronger than any angel he’d ever known, the strength of his convictions making him more of a hero than anyone else. He would sacrifice everything for those he considered family, in fact, he had more than once.

Turning to Dean, his expression soft, Castiel smiled. “Hello, Dean.”

The look in his angel’s eyes made his heart beat faster. He wanted to tell him about the cuts, tell him about the wendigo, but instead, he simply said, “Hey, Cas.”

“Did you…” Castiel gestured to the table. “Is this…”

“Uh…” he hesitated. Dean didn’t want to lie, but at the same time, all he wanted was to pull Castiel into his arms, tell him what he’d been hiding for years. Shaking his head, Dean decided to tell the truth, at least part of the truth. “No. The couple is… they’re gone.” He pressed a hand gently to his stomach but hid the pain. “Do you wanna… sit? The pot still looks hot.”

“Dean,” Castiel smiled but shook his head. Moving, he walked closer to his hunter. “We should not take that which is not ours.”

Fuck it, Dean was tired of pretending. Tired of lying, hiding what he felt, day in and day out, always keeping a close rein on his emotions. Closing the distance, he reached up a hand toward Castiel’s face, stopping just before his hand touched flesh. Drawing his hand back, he sighed. “Cas, I’m sorry about this morning.”

“It’s forgotten.”

“I’m an asshole. God, I’m always the asshole, aren’t I?”

Castiel took another step toward Dean, putting their bodies only inches apart. Lifting his hand, he cupped his cheek, running fingers through the scruff his hunter sported. “You are not an asshole, Dean. Not unless I am as well. Would you say that I’m an asshole?” When Dean shook his head, Castiel smiled. “There you go. We fight because…”

When Castiel’s words trailed off, Dean took a chance. “Because we care about each other, too damn much.” He stumbled over his words, “Cas… I… uh…” Swiping a hand over his face, he sighed. “Fucking hell, Cas. I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just say it.”

“I fucking love you.” Dean grabbed the lapel of the angel’s coat, pulling him against his body, letting out a small hiss of pain. But he didn’t care, he just wrapped one arm around his waist under the coat, bringing the other up to thread in his dark hair. “God, I don’t know why I waited so long for this.” Pulling Castiel’s head toward his, he pressed a fevered kiss against his lips, groaning when their tongues met.

Castiel couldn’t believe what was happening. But he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, instead, bringing his hands to Dean’s waist, pulling him harder against him. The second he did, Dean gasped in pain and Castiel could feel blood soaking into his shirt. Pulling back, he looked down. “You’re hurt.”

Grabbing Dean’s hand, Castiel led him over to the bed in the corner, forcing him to sit. Then, he unbuttoned the shirt, deftly avoiding touching his flesh. As much as he wanted to, he needed to see the injury first before finishing what they had begun. When his eyes saw the giant claw marks, he pushed the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, tossing it to the floor.

“Lay back, Dean,” he said, voice hoarse.

Dean did as he asked, settling himself on the bed as gently as he could. When Castiel climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs, he could feel himself starting to grow aroused. “Cas, what’re you doing?”

“Hush.” Castiel felt a small smile grace his lips as he leaned down. “I’m going to heal you.”

Pressing a kiss near the top of the cut, trailing his lips down Dean’s muscles, slowly letting his power trickle out to heal him. He could have simply laid his hands over Dean, healing him that way, but after the kiss, he wanted to make it more intimate.

As he closed the cuts, bit by bit, he shucked off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, then loosened the tie pulling it over his head. Tossing his clothes to the floor, he scooted back, moving his lips down Dean’s stomach and to the flesh right above his belt.

“Cas,” Dean groaned. God, he wanted nothing more than for his angel to continue his path, but not like this. “I think I’m healed.”

Castiel lifted his head and moved back up, letting his weight press Dean down to the bed. He could feel Dean’s hardness, just as he was certain his hunter could feel his.

Even though Castiel’s mouth was covered in his blood, Dean pulled his face down, kissing him hard. When they pulled apart, they were both breathless. “What are we doing, Cas?”

“I love you, Dean.”

“God, I’ve…”

Castiel placed a finger on his lips. “I know… I know.” He kissed him again, gentler this time. “Let me love you, Dean. Then we can get back to the real world, pretend this never happened.”

Dean lifted his hands, pulling his angel’s head back from his face. “No.”

“No?”

“We’re not going to pretend this never happened. I’m through hiding.”

“But…”

“No buts, Cas. I love you, have for a long time. I’ve just been too stupid to admit it, to you and myself.” He thrust his hips up, enjoying the friction when he felt Castiel’s hardness pressing against his own. “The first thing we’ll do is tell Sammy. But first…” He drew Castiel’s head back down to his, kissing him hard. “Let’s enjoy the solitude, just for a little bit.”


End file.
